What the Hell
by BittersweetDeceit
Summary: "I don't know what happened to my Kurt," Rachel sighs, placing a hand on Blaine's shoulder in distress. "He went off the wire. His hair is dyed, he rid himself of his beloved designer clothes, and he even got piercings! Something happened to him, but he won't tell me. His loss!" FutureSkank!Kurt.
1. Disillusions

**A/N Hello! Wow, I know I've said this before, but I've got to get my act together. I've got like a bajillion other fanfictions to write, yet I start up a new one. It's a disease please send money.**

**Okay, anyway, let's clear some things up before you delve into my fantastic tales. I am pretty hazy on the entire season 4 thing of Glee. I know the gist of it, from Tumblr of course, but Glee is far too damaging a show for me to watch anymore. I think some of ya'll can agree? Ja? **

**So, with that said, I may get some tidbits of information wrong. If there's just a small something here-or-there, please feel free to point it out in a review or PM or whatever. I'd really appreciate it. But this is AU, as you should know, so in some obvious cases information **_**will**_** be wrong. Such is life. So this branches off from 4x04.**

**Great! Let's begin!**

**Rated: M **

**Warnings: Spoilers for season 4 and on, self esteem problems, sexual conduct, extreme misbehavior, and swearing. I do love me the swearing.**

**Summary:** "I don't know what happened to my Kurt," Rachel sighed, placing a hand on Blaine's shoulder in distress. "He went off the wire. His hair is dyed, he rid himself of his beloved designer clothes, and he even got piercings! Something happened to him, but he won't tell me. His loss!" FutureSkank!Kurt.

_**What the Hell  
**__Chapter 1 - Disillusions_

"Is it even legal for a high school to give us three weeks of winter vacation off?"

Sam Evans shrugged and looked over to Blaine. The school was emptying quickly, but Sam and Blaine had reason to stay, along with the rest of the Glee club. They had one last rehearsal for their Holidays concert before winter vacation was upon them, and truth be told, there was more than expected to rehearse.

"I couldn't care less, man. Less school, less homework, less of Ms. Peterson on my ass!" Sam replied, clapping Blaine on the back and leading them both towards the choir room. "It's gonna be great!"

"Uh-huh, sure," Blaine said absentmindedly. Sam glanced over to him in concern before rolling his eyes.

"Oh, I see," Sam said, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"What?"

"Cooper is coming over for Christmas this year, isn't he? And I thought you two made up!" Same laughed, ushering Blaine into the choir room before him. Half or so of Glee was already there, mingling lightly, exchanging candy.

"We have - I mean, I think we have. Cooper seems to forget things of even mild importance."

Blaine sat down in the back row, Sam joining him. "I hear 'ya, man. But, hey, at least you have me to look forward to, well, and the rest of us, too, with the concert!"

"I can't wa-"

Finn entered the room then, cutting Blaine off and clapping his hands in a very Will Schuester-esque way. "Okay, guys - and, er, gals - this is our last rehearsal, so let's waste no time. Everyone up for the first number."

Everyone sighed and reluctantly stood. Exhaustion was slowly eating at their minds, and staying after school when the rest of the students are home getting started on their break is not a motivator. Finn has proven to be a very talented show choir instructor, and though most would say he is better than Schuester, he _was_ working them to the bone.

A slow hour passed, and they knew they're barely half done. Finn was showing the signs of a temper tantrum, Brittany was mumbling something incoherent about carrots, Artie was rolling himself into the wall with no abandon, and even Marley looked about ready to cry.

"C'mon, c'mon! We're getting _nowhere!_" Finn yelled over the band and over Kitty and Unique's duet.

"It's not our fault," Kitty retorted, sliding up to Finn and crossing her arms. "Look at the rest of those dweebs - they just can't keep up!"

Finn was about to respond when a hesitant knock landed on the choir room door. All pairs of eyes flashed to the sound, and distantly, Tina welcomed the knocker to come in. The door slowly opened, and much to Finn's utter displeasure, Rachel Berry came striding in through the doorway.

"Hello, my next generation!" she called out, and opened her arms wide. If she was expecting praise or a hospitable reception, which most know she was, she had come to the wrong place.

"Rachel?" Artie asked, incredulous. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, it's winter break for me at NYADA as well, so I thought I'd come by McKinley and lay in my nostalgia. And what do I hear, but a show choir rehearsing! I could not help but stop by and see how my stepping stone to fame is getting on!" Rachel grinned, and came to stand in the middle of the room, where Finn once was. Now, he was slinking out the left door.

"Thanks for stopping by, Grossmutter, but we have a lot of practicing to do," Kitty drawled, pushing Rachel not-so-gently towards the exit. Rachel huffed and pushes back.

"So, how is everyone? Brittany? Blaine? Sugar?" Rachel paused a moment. "If you're wondering about NYADA, it's going splendidly! After a few setbacks, all due to boys - take heed, girls - I've finally placed my name on the Broadway map! And you won't believe who I met - wait! Blaine?"

She singled him out with a steeling stare. He retracted slightly under her scrutiny, but stepped forward against all better judgment and forced a smile onto his face. "Rachel."

She leapt out to hug at him. "I've missed you so much! You were my little brother, you know that? Oh, we just _have_ to go get coffee tonight!"

Blaine was not too eager to spend time with Rachel, for obvious reasons. He does adore the girl and her ambition, but she had just flown back from New York, where Kurt was. Kurt was her best friend, and was once Blaine's boyfriend, and so he is an apparent topic for conversation. Blaine wasn't sure he was ready for that yet. Hell, he wasn't so sure he'll _ever_ be ready for that.

"I would love to, Rachel, but we're in the middle of practice, and I don't know how long we'll be here," Blaine said smoothly. It's not completely a lie.

"But Finn just snuck out the door," Sugar said, gesturing to the exit with a flick of her head. "I think we're done!"

The club cheered, and with such a haste not present during dance steps, they bustled out of the room. Rachel squealed and grabbed Blaine's hand, barely giving him enough time to retrieve his bag and jacket before they're off, buckling into Rachel's dad's car.

* * *

The wind was bitter and cold, but the snow was absent from the ground and the sky. Desperate to salvage any warmth their bodies have to offer, Rachel and Blaine hurried into the Lima Bean.

Once they were seated with their coffee, Rachel let down any barrier Rachel Berry may have, and let her adventure and misadventure stories in New York spill from her lips. Blaine listened half-heartedly, and it wouldn't have been heartedly at all if it wasn't for the mere chance of Kurt's name also spilling from her lips.

"So with all the money I could grind up, I bought my plane ticket here to spend Hanukkah with my dear friends and family! You _will not_ believe the amount of plane tickets these days, Blaine Warbler, I mean, they're just ridiculous! I wonder how Kurt could afford his - but it's none of my concern!"

Blaine perked at the mention of Kurt. He tried, as inconspicuously as possible, to ask idly about the beautiful Kurt Hummel, and if Rachel sees through him, she doesn't say anything.

"I don't know how he's doing," Rachel said, brushing her bangs from her eyes. "We kind of broke off ties."

"What? Why?"

"Around October, something happened to him. He just became a completely different person; the weird part of it all is that it wasn't a drastic change! He gradually became more stuck-up, then he became outright _rude_."

"That doesn't sound like Kurt," Blaine murmured, more to himself than anything.

"Then his bedroom décor changed from modern vintage to this," she struggled for words, "…this _crazy rock and roll_ furnishing!"

Blaine's eyebrows drew together.

"I don't know what happened to my Kurt," Rachel sighed, placing a hand on Blaine's shoulder in distress. "He went off the wire. His hair is dyed, he rid himself of his beloved designer clothes, and he even got piercings! Something happened to him, but he won't tell me. His loss!"

"That doesn't sound like Kurt," Blaine repeated, louder this time. Rachel nodded empathetically.

"Don't I know it," she said. "I've lost my best gay, so now I hope to find a best friendship in, you, Blaine Warbler, my secondary gay."

Blaine's lips curled in distaste, but he disregarded what Rachel has just said. "And you said he is here in Lima with you?"

"Well, no, not _with _me," Rachel corrected, "But yes, he's here with his dad. You should have seen Mr. Hummel's face when he first saw Kurt exit the plane behind me - I have never seen such disappointment and shock on either of my dad's faces like _that_ before!"

It was too much to take in, too much to take in all at once. He cannot imagine Kurt like one of Quinn's skanks from last year, if Rachel's description was correct. The coffee cup in his hand was the only thing holding him down, forcing him to continue his conversation with Rachel like his world just hasn't crumbled at the thought of Kurt.

He wanted to see him, but he knews he couldn't. He wanted to talk to him, but he knew he couldn't. He wanted to hear him, but he knew he couldn't. It was a continuing, vicious cycle of need and want to failure and frustration.

Over the three months of minimal contact and absolute _heartbreak, _Blaine had disillusioned himself into thinking that life was going on. After all, he was the one who had ruined everything he had with the one person he loved more than anything. Everything was on_ his_ shoulders; all the fault circled back to _him._

With a sharp strike, Blaine realized that any thought towards moving on he once had was fake. He simply _couldn't _move on.

"I can tell you're surprised, Blaine," Rachel said, softer this time. "I was, too, when I had to witness Kurt's retrogression. I can also tell that you're fighting this inner battle of whether you should seek him out or not."

Blaine stayed silent. Rachel nodded and laid her hand atop Blaine's.

"I don't have any advice for you in that aspect, but I'll happily go along with whatever makes you happy, and brings Kurt back to himself. He and I may not be friends anymore, but you and I are, and I will help you with anything you need."

The ever-present elderly couple of the Lima Bean looked at their interlaid hands, and shrugged to each other in confusion. If Blaine had one constant thing in his life, it was them. With a sigh, he turnned away from the couple and back towards Rachel.

"I just don't know what to do," he admitted quietly.

"Do you still love him?" Rachel asked, to which Blaine immediately nods.

"And are you willing to do whatever it takes to get him back?" Another immediate and fervent nod from Blaine.

"Are you ready to suffer through whatever it takes to get him back, because Kurt _will_ make you suffer?" Rachel asked, and was in slight shock at the unfaltering affirmative from Blaine.

"Can you see a future with him?"

"Kurt is my soul mate, the love of my life, my anchor, my best friend - I can see more than just a future with him."

Rachel smiled into her coffee cup. "I think you have your answer, then. You _do_ know what to do."


	2. Everything

**A/N Lolol, I should be studying for a test. 2 tests, actually. Nuts to you, APUSH! Also, I would like to thank everyone who has followed or reviewed this story! It really means a lot to me.**

**Oh, and I'm sorry for the wait! Truly. School's a bitch. **

**Also, I'm making a minute change to this story. The first chapter was present tense, but because I don't usually like using present tense, I decided to just change the entire story to past tense, as I'm comfortable with. Not a big change, barely even a noticeable change. **

_**What the Hell  
**__Chapter 2 - Everything_

Cooper Anderson, Blaine's older brother, had arrived the same day Rachel - and apparently Kurt - had, and also seemed to go to the same lengths Rachel had to spend time with him. Although Rachel had forcibly insisted on coffee, Cooper was ready to flaunt his new acting job money with Blaine at the mall, promising Blaine one item of his choosing - be it less than fifty dollars.

Blaine loved his brother, that was certain, but as it is with every sibling, fighting and overall suspicion occur. He and Cooper had previously solved the height of their problems, and Blaine could not be happier. When Blaine let down all general wariness of Cooper's character, he realized just how much he loved his older brother.

So, that was how Blaine found himself in the small Lima mall, struggling to keep up with his brother's long strides and equally long sentences.

"This mall does not _compare_ to the malls I have seen in L.A., because _those_, little brother, are not malls; they are palaces, where I can happen to buy kitchen appliances and pick up ladies at the same time."

Blaine laughed lightly, shoving Cooper playfully. Cooper pushed back, nearly sending Blaine to the ground. They both chuckled and ignored the odd looks given to them by the passerbys. Blaine dusted himself off. "Where to next?"

"I don't know, Blaine, where do you want a present from? Bowtie-Co? Grandfather's Secret?"

"Please, no, I do _not _want that picture in my head, Coop. Let's just go to this one," Blaine said, pulling Cooper into the small store to their right. Empty, but with an array of clothes Blaine was sure Kurt would like, Blaine shrugged. He began to wander around, his older brother at his heels.

"So, Blainey-boy, we need to catch up. How's everything?" Cooper asked, striding towards Blaine's residence at the button-ups. Blaine glanced over.

"That's a broad question," Blaine murmured, picking up a light blue shirt from the pile and examining it. "In the case of _everything_, well, I believe there is some tension in Syria, and, let's see, most roosters still crow in the morning - so that's good - and electricity was discovered, which I'm pretty pumped about."

Cooper chuckled and gestured for Blaine to follow him out of the store. "No, dweeb, I mean 'how is everything in your life that pertains to you?'. Let's grab something to eat, and you can catch me up."

Blaine reluctantly put down the shirt and folded it delicately, waving and smiling at the store clerk before rushing to meet Cooper outside the door. Cooper's physique, tall and broad shouldered, was attracting much attention for such a small mall. Blaine rolled his eyes and shooed away the onlookers, even going as far as taking away the autograph paper from him.

"Food court?" Blaine reminded, walking off by instruction of the mall guides. Cooper ran up to his side.

"I think I will get the bad Chinese food," Cooper mused, "Or perhaps the bad pizza. But I'm feeling like today is a bad burrito day."

"Oh, are you trying to tell me that Lima's food isn't as good as New York's or L.A.'s? Very subtle." Blaine smirked.

"You have not eaten until you have tasted a California Roll, right out of California," Cooper said seriously, placing a hand on Blaine's shoulder and entering the food court. Blaine coughed, smile playing at the sides of his mouth.

The two retrieved their food and found seats near the large mantle centerpiece of the court. Cooper lounged back, chair tipped on its back legs and arms crossed, and Blaine quickly dug into his food. Cooper's interrogation was soon coming.

Cooper analyzed him, scrutinized him, and Blaine rolled his eyes. "Spit it out, Coop."

"I've been trained to detect the waves of emotion from my costars, Blaine. It helps the scene. And I feel as though you are my costar, and I can feel your emotion. You seem…" Cooper paused, struggling for the words, "sad? Gloomy? Askew? Yeah, you seem askew, Blaine."

Blaine's eyebrows furrowed together. "I see."

Cooper sighed and dropped the legs of his chair back to the ground. "C'mon, B. What's wrong?"

Blaine shook his head and pushed his food away, his appetite diminishing by the second. "I'd really rather not talk about it."

"Blaine, I'm your older brother! If you can't tell me, who're you going to tell?"

Blaine could name a few. There was Sam, and - no, Blaine thought, he could name _one_. And Sam was amazing, the closest friend he had in Lima, but perhaps Blaine _could_ do with telling his brother. And besides, maybe some good would come from it. Cooper had been through his share of relationship drama.

"Kurt and I broke up," Blaine deadpanned. He picked his fork back up again and looked away from Cooper's shocked face. He didn't want to see it.

"You _broke up?_" Cooper whispered incredulously. "Why?"

Blaine rubbed at his eyes. "I- it just happened, okay? He was in New York, and I was here, and I couldn't take it. I missed him too much."

"You aren't making any sense," Cooper said slowly. "You missed him, so you broke up?"

"No, Coop," Blaine said, shoulders sagging, "I missed him, so I cheated on him. How's that for making sense?"

To his credit, Cooper barely flinched, but no one could deny the way his lips parted in a twisted mixture of revelation and surprise. Blaine looked away, shame tickling his stomach like a fire.

"It actually does make sense, though," Cooper bemused, biting at his food idly. "You've always been like this, squirt."

Blaine's head jerked up. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Cooper continued to eat, taking thoughtful glances to the ceiling. "Well, for whatever reason, you, as a kid, always needed something in your arms. Like that goddamn blanket I _know you still have_." Blaine's face flushed, and Cooper smiled. He continued, "It was fun for me to take away your things because you would always get so worked up about it."

Blaine mumbled something unintelligible. Cooper ignored him.

"Then, y'know, when dad started to try and change you, and when mom started to ignore you, and when I wasn't there, the things you needed but couldn't hold in your arms were all gone. So physical and emotional contact, especially emotional, became necessary for you to survive."

Blaine looked up at him through his lashes. He said nothing, so Cooper did it for him.

"Remember when I came home for Christmas when you were, like, thirteen? I forgot your present at my apartment and you thought I hated you? It took the entire evening to convince you that I didn't hate you, and I'm just hippocampus-challenged."

Blaine rolled his eyes again, smirking to himself. Of course he remembered.

"Tell me some more about how it happened," Cooper said. "The break up, I mean."

"Well, he got this new internship at Vogue, and was always really busy. We talked on the phone for only minutes a day, skyped for even less in a week. It just felt like he was -"

"Moving on without you?" Cooper interrupted. Blaine stared at him, shocked. "I know you, Blaine. You, I guess, felt that emotional connection you need so much slip away, and it must've been worse 'cause you had already lost the physical connection."

"I had accomplished so much at McKinley, and it felt like he didn't even care!" Blaine continued, breathing in shakily. "But this other guy did. He thought it was cool I won class president. And then I got around to thinking that maybe Kurt and I weren't meant to be together."

"So you cheated."

Blaine nodded sadly, avoiding Cooper's eyes to wipe away the tears from his own. "So I cheated."

"What then?"

"Then," Blaine laughed humorlessly, "then I realized - right after - that Kurt and I were supposed to make it all the way. That we _were_ meant for each other. Soulmates. But I had screwed everything up."

"You most certainly did," Cooper admitted, "but you weren't entirely at fault. Most of it was just instinct on your part, B. But you still cheated, and as far as I've gotten you right now, I don't have a plan of attack for you to get him back or anything."

Blaine smiled somberly. "Good thing I do, then."

Cooper grinned, eyes sparkling for a moment, before his expression fell. "Is that such a good idea?" he asked quietly.

Blaine eyed him. "What are you talking about?"

"I don't know if that's a very good idea, trying to win him back and everything. He's probably really torn up about this, and I can you are, too. Won't getting back together just tear both of you up even more?"

Blaine stayed silent. He looked down at his food, shaking his head to himself. Cooper reached over and placed his hand gently on Blaine's arm, forcing Blaine to drag his eyes away from his lap to Cooper's face. His head still shook.

"I like Kurt, and I love you, Blaine," Cooper said delicately, carefully choosing his words, "and more than anything in the world, even fame, I want you to be happy. But you've hurt him, and he's hurt you too, right? Maybe it's - maybe it's time to call it quits on this one, bud."

"But you just said I wasn't entirely at fault!" Blaine exclaimed, a violent flush rising to his cheeks, eyes narrowed. "Everything about codependency and my need for emotional connections all made sense, so stop trying to make me out to be the bad guy! I'm not a bad guy!"

"Did I ever say you were a bad guy?" Cooper asked. "You're putting words in my mouth! You're not a bad guy, but what you _did _was bad. Do you really want to bring all your bad behavior to the present again? Do you think Kurt wants that?"

"I don't know what Kurt wants anymore," Blaine muttered, defeated. "He's changed, apparently. Rachel told me he's changed a lot, and for the worse, it sounds like. Isn't trying what we both should be doing? _Trying_ to fix this?"

Cooper said nothing.

Blaine nodded to himself. "I have to _try_, Cooper. I love him too much to just call it quits."

Cooper sighed and picked up his food again. "Okay, B. You've got me convinced - as your brother, and as an actor. You have literally written a script and I have seamlessly acted and responded upon your words. You have me convinced."

Blaine lips turned up in a small smile. He let himself breathe again.

"When're you going to see Kurt again?" Cooper asked.

"He's staying at his dad's for the few weeks he's here. I just can't go to his house and force myself on him. I just have to think of something."

"Maybe that Rachel girl can get him out of the house and into your arms?" Cooper said, eyebrow quirked.

Blaine rolled his eyes; he seemed to be doing that a lot around his older brother nowadays. "No can do. He and Rachel stopped talking."

Cooper's lips spread into a straight line, and he stared off into the distant, calculating. "Okay," he said after a moment, "here's the plan. I arrive to his house with a handlebar moustache, a milkman uniform, and a sealed envelope. If Kurt answers the door, I will reveal myself as Cooper Anderson, but if anyone else does, I am the new milkman on the block-"

Blaine tensed in his seat, his hazel eyes widening in shock and panic. His fingers curled into Cooper's arm with an unexpected strength, forcing Cooper to stop speaking and look up to Blaine in alarm. "Blaine, the hell? It's not _that_ bad of a plan."

"No, no, Coop. Shut up," Blaine whispered frantically. "Kurt's here! He's over there, at that kiosk, look! Kurt's _here!_"


	3. The Day It Happened

**A/N Merry Christmas to those of you who celebrate it! Enjoy!**

_**What the Hell  
**__Chapter 3 - The Day It Happened_

Two Months Earlier, October 26th

Rachel was out with Brody for the night, for the first night in awhile. He's relieved to have her out of the apartment - or more like, he's relieved to finally be away from her insistent obsession with Brody or her classes or her problems. Being her friend and roommate was more than exhausting.

He can't deal with her anymore. From the beginning, he always knew she and Finn wouldn't necessarily make it all the way, as there was far too much drama between them, but Rachel's aloof hop from Finn to Brody, just a few days after _their_ break-up, was simply nauseating.

It urged him to think that if he were to simply forget all about Blaine and just move on to another guy, life would be better - case in point, Rachel. But he just _couldn't. _

As much as he had felt his world fall to shreds beneath him the night Blaine had admitted he was cheating, Kurt couldn't just banish Blaine from his memories with a flick of his wrist. But how he wished he could.

He could not completely erase Blaine from his mind, but he _could _shove him to the farthest corner and build up a wall. So he did.

Kurt scrutinized the heaps of clothes on his bed and his wardrobe. Reaching out, he flinched and quickly retracted his hand. After kicking himself in his mind, he pushed aside all hesitant thoughts and began to sort through the pile.

He plucked out a black, leather jacket and threw it to the floor of his wardrobe. Next came an assortment of old, battered tees, plain jeans, ripped jeans, more jackets, and other clothes he deemed acceptable. They built up a small heap on the bottom of the wardrobe.

To the rest, he divided the clothes into three other sorts. One; "The Absolute No-Go Clothes", two; "Damage Control Clothes", and three; "Keep For Human Tendencies Clothes". The first pile were the clothes he desperately needed to rid himself of. These clothes weren't good enough; they were too chic, too artsy, too flowery. When he finished that pile, most of his clothes are gone.

He felt ashamed. The struggle and the money he had spent towards these clothes was going to absolute waste, yet it only took him a minute to calm himself and remember that these high-end labels are only bringing him down.

The second pile was smaller. It consisted of perhaps ten articles of clothing, all of which can be tampered with to be acceptable. The third was even smaller; it was the "Keep For Human Tendencies" pile, and it held only two items - his mother's old, embroidered hankerchief, and his father's baseball cap. He cannot - will not - part with these. Later, they'll end up in a small box under his bed.

Glancing around the room quickly, his eyes strayed to the scissors on his desk. With a wicked, satisfied grin, he grabbed the scissors and took them to his second pile. He shredded the fabric in careful strokes at first, but then his fingers begin to shake, and then his hand, and soon the movements became unpredictable, wavering.

He felt unimportant. He felt angry. He felt absolutely pitiful, and he _hated _it.

His face turned pink in anger and frustration as the blades sliced through an old sweater and caught on a seam. Huffing, he threw it to the ground.

His room was a mess. Tattered clothes decorated the floor, his wardrobe was thrown open at the hinges, and more importantly, he was standing in the middle of the wreckage alone, knowing of nothing to do but scream.

In the other room, his phone rang out, but he ignored it. Rachel, he knew was on the other end, was probably about to rip in half with the intensity of her problems with Brody, though Kurt knows that the intensity was that of a bird's wings - and frankly, he couldn't find it in himself to care..

The shame he felt disappeared as quickly as it had come.

He strode quickly into his bathroom, quick so his mind does not catch up with his actions, and locked the door. He grabbed for the bottle of bleach he had bought and before he could stop himself, his gloved hands were rubbing the chemicals into his hair.

The bleach ran through his bangs in disoriented streaks, took over the left side of his head, and _burned_, but he paid it no mind. Tendrils, splashes, drops that appear bloody from his second bottle, red dye, soaked through the bleach before it even had time to settle, and the black stain color runs down his cheek.

Not long later, he looked up from the sink into his reflection. What he saw shocked him, took him off guard, but it assured him and reassured him of what had happened, and what was to happen. It was an anxious feeling, but an addicting one.

And he is addicted.

His phone chimed once more. Kurt dashed to the door, but not before picking up the phone and declining the call, and ran out into the hall. He had a piercing parlor to visit.

On the way to his hailed cab, Kurt saw a young couple of his age. The male handed the female a large bouquet of glowing red and yellow flowers, and she simply gushed. He sneered at the display, ignoring the violent pull at his heart. He catcalled, and at that they noticed him, but before they could do anything, he flicked them off and continued into the cab.

He decided he liked the defeated, crushed look on someone else's face for a change.


End file.
